#and like yeah he’s still aggressive sometimes

[luveline]

carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he’s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)

—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 

“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 

Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 

He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 

“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 

Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 

It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 

Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 

Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 

“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 

Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 

Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 

Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 

“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 

Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 

Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.

You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 

Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 

“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 

You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 

“I’m fine,” you say. 

Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 

“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 

“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 

He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 

Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 

“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”

You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 

“What can I do?” he asks finally.

He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 

Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 

“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  

He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to anything.” 

“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 

“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 

“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 

You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 

Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 

He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 

“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 

“He said he’s banned for life.” 

“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.

You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 

Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 

He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.

“That was really weird,” you say. 

He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 

“Dick,” he says. 

You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 

“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 

“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 

Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  

He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 

“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.

[katsukiizmoon]

I don’t wanna be that bitch but Katsuki isn’t a bland, one sided character. He’s aggressive with a mean attitude and extremely competitive. He’s still a person though.

Basically, when writing katsuki you don’t have to make him an asshole 24/7.. you can mix things up. Give him the signs of maturity, let him mellow a little, show the side of katsuki that is tired and grumpy and affectionate.

Example :

One dimensional katsuki’s reaction to a SO hugging him from behind in the morning : growls, “get the fuck off me shithead, die!” , yanks away and walks off with an eye roll.

Multi-dimensional dazzle dazzle katsuki reaction to a SO hugging him from behind in the morning : grunt, then : “yeah yea, morning shithead. Get off’a me, got Shit to do.” Pulls away a bit, ruffles SO hair / smooch to top of head, walks off with an eye roll.

This isn’t how you’d write it like, Yunno, in the fanfiction… but it makes a difference. Sometimes I get comments on my work where katsuki shows more emotion cause he’s an angry gremlin. Remember, most angry little fuckheads experience a wide range of intense emotions.

Thank you for coming to my PSA!

P.S. this is signed with a forehead smooch to katsuki, right in the middle. My glitter gloss is making some of his hair stick to his forehead. Woops.

[natslilcorner]

Philza Baby AU

The End is as cold and bare as always. She doesn't blame The King for wanting things to decorate it, but still there is a limit to how much you can take.

Rose walks on the Island looking at all the creatures that live there. Enderman get aggressive when looked at, but she knows she is safe. She is powerful enough to destroy this whole place, even though she would never do it.

Now that The End has no ruler, the remnant Gods often go to check on it to make sure everything is stable. Balance is important and after the war they all have enough of the chaos. Talking about chaos, Rose looks in the distance and sees an unusual number of Enderman all gathered together. It's rare for Enderman to group up since they are solitary creatures.

Rose gets near the area and the closer she gets she hears another sound among the Enderman’s cries. A sound that should not belong in The End.

As soon as she is close the beasts teleport away finally allowing her to see what caught their attention.

Oh.

The Goddess kneels in front of a small bundle of white cloth. Inside it? A baby! She could not believe her eyes. What is a human baby doing in the wastelands? The End should be closed for humans so how did this little thing end up here?

Rose carefully picks up the baby keeping it in the centre of her palm. Right. She is not human sized right now, but maybe that’s safer for the baby! She stands up carefully and starts walking towards the portal. She has to show Blaze!

The End is as cold and bare as always. She doesn't blame The King for wanting things to decorate it, but still there is a limit to how much you can take.

Rose walks on the Island looking at all the creatures that live there. Enderman get aggressive when looked at, but she knows she is safe. She is powerful enough to destroy this whole place, even though she would never do it.

Now that The End has no ruler, the remnant Gods often go to check on it to make sure everything is stable. Balance is important and after the war they all have enough of the chaos. Talking about chaos, Rose looks in the distance and see an unusual number of Enderman all gathered together. It's rare for Enderman to group up since they are solitary creatures.

Rose gets near the area and the closer she gets she hears another sound among the Enderman’s cries. A sound that should not belong in The End.

As soon as she is close the beasts teleport away finally allowing her to see what caught their attention.

Oh.

The Goddess kneels in front of a small bundle of white cloth. Inside it? A baby! She could not believe her eyes. What is a human baby doing in the wastelands of the End? The End should be closed for humans so how did this little thing end up here?

Rose carefully picks up the baby keeping it in the centre of her palm. Right. She is not human sized right now, but maybe that’s safer for the baby! She stands up carefully and starts walking towards the portal. She has to show Blaze!

Idk because of QSMP and how Rose would call q!Philza “child of the sky” I imagined her as some sort of a mother figure :D So yeah baby Phil being found by her and then him growing up around the Gods. Rose being the chill carefree parent. Blaze being paranoid and assigning She and He as his babysitters and guards. Blaze coming to the Overworld and seeing both Rose and Phil playing in the mud. On “who” Philza in this type au is idk?? Like sometimes I like to think Philza would be the next “End guardian” like each thing (nether, oceans etc) needed someone to take care of them, and since the EnderKing is gonezo, Phil was born. This is why he also is a winged “human”. The Gods don’t know that tho.. they are not familiar with this. Or he is just an abandoned baby lol

I imagined the Ocean Overlord babysitting baby Phil. Rose dropping him off at his home and him putting Phil in a donut floatie to play in the water.

Rose comes back and asks Ocean about the baby. “What child?.........................oh, THE CHILD”. He totally forgot about it and went to play videogames. After a long search they find Phil in the middle of the ocean, sunburned, with dolphins swimming around him. Also Phil is holding a fish cuz why not lmao

Anyway Ocean can no longer babysit alone. Blaze was not happy.

Oh maybe Ocean is the one who gave Phil his little hat as a sorry/joke LOL Blaze did not find it funny.

Phil growing up learning so many skills thanks to the Gods who took care of him. Planning, fighting and organisation from Blaze, from Rose building, taking care of animals and nature etc, and from Ocean how to be independent and survival skills since his ass was not looking after him LMAO

Sjfsjibksnsfdjsfjfsjs immortal gods taking care of baby with no idea of what they are doing>>>>

(some old art lol)

[shroomies-world]

Why I hate Fathers Day.

Alright guys. This is like.. a very serious post. Like almost one of these rant posts I have to make. I wrote this on May 24th so I can wait for this day in particular (Sunday 16th, 2024.) This post will prolly be really long which most likely be. And like half of you guys knows this but I have daddy issues but what yall prolly dont know is that I absolutely hate fathers day. This post will explain everything. My childhood with him, why and the pain of the aftermath. This is gonna be about my struggles of this, my hatred of Fathers Day and my irl father. I feel ashamed of posting this ESPECIALLY on this blog. But I do trust alot of ppl. Including my besti's/close friends.

NOTE: Like I said this will be long but I appreciate it if you guys just read this, because it means alot. This is a VERY HARD TOPIC for me to talk abt. There will be mentions of abuse but no SA. Also when I put the red messages it's most likely my anger, envy and pain talking so please don't take it to heart. This is prolly the most healthiest thing I could do, otherwise I would've lost my sanity and just be an asshole the whole day to my mom, irl friends and online friends and I do not want that. Anywhos.. yeah. Thank You. I apologize if there's any errors in the texts.

The first half of the he/hims/his will be red and a line thru it and you'd know the rest as you read.

His actions and mannerisms.

When I was about 3 years old, my mother wanted to divorce my father because she wanted to be just friends with him. This will be important so keep that in mind while reading. So way back then when I was young. I was a.. guess you could say is 'nice and gentle' kid. I was shy and very imitated yet I pushed and be out my bubble. And that happens alot around my father. My father isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He is mostly very brass, arrogant, loud and aggressive. And I would be very close to my dad at a young age and I would just be thinking "Oh he's just cranky over work" and blah blah blah. But he's just naturally like that for no reason.

He would constantly break my boundaries and just ignore the fact it made me feel uncomfortable and he wouldn't cave in his actions.

He would get upset and rude when I don't like or understand his joking mannerisms or jokes. (Because of my autism.) And he would be like "I was just playing." "Don't whine about it child." And it would just sound.. so annoyed, angry and disappointment. Probably due to the fact my autism blocked out those "expected mannerisms" and just made me uncomfortable. But again. I brushed it off because I was young at the time and I was very naively innocent. I didn't mind him breaking my boundaries by trying to "playfully" hurt me. He would just think I'm being a crybaby and a sensitive brat.

His voice is just naturally loud and aggressive and I would get upset but I quickly mask it so it wouldn't sadden my father. But sometimes I do break the mask and get bothered and he will ask me "What's wrong, child?" And yes. He does call me "child" I don't know why. I don't know what made him to call me that. If he did told me why, I probaby just forgot. He would just get upset with me either the jokes, body language or just something random. I would sometimes be scared of him yelling at me because I was and still am a sensitive. My heart would race, there would be hot invisible flames on my shoulders and such. It didn't really happen when I was younger younger but I would probably say around 7 to 14. I would get scared when he's aggressive and mean. Again he's brass which is a term for arrogance or loudness so that's normal. Yet I had a feeling it wasn't really normal.

It wouldn't be just that, it would just be like random gaslighting or manipulation. His words would make me feel like shit, feel bad and take the blame.

I sometimes wish I wasn't autistic and I would be perfect so my father would like me more but no. I had to be born with this fucking condition I have.

The abuse.

The abuse would mostly be verbal, mental and emotional. It would hurt the most than the physical. While physically it would hurt but emotionally, mentally and verbally would hurt way more coming from my dad. However my father has never SA'd me which thank god.

He would just bully and tease me and just brush it off because it was "a joke" and just expect me not to take it to heart. However it is very hard for a kid to do that especially if they have autism. By the way I do not know if he knows or doesn't know if my mom told him I am autistic. I think my mom said "He does know but he is just ignorant like that." And stuff. Which is not far. It is true because he is ignorant about the shit he says and the action he does.

He sometimes threats me alot. But one time at KFC I was with my younger half brother. (My three half brothers has the same dad but different moms.) with my father. He said something like "If you don't quit it I'll give you the chops." And the cashier was speechless. She was shocked. Appalled. Thinking "What father would say that to their kids?" What are the chops? Easy answer. They are a technique that my father does, it's a karate chop to the throat. He doesn't do it hard but he doesn't be gentle with it either. It would bother me and I hated it. He did it to my mother and she would also hated/disliked it.

The chops still haunts me to this day. I cannot think about him otherwise I will imagine a noose around my neck and it's tightening my airway, preventing me to breathe. My father has done that so much so yeah it's hard to get rid of that feeling.

That's just the tip of the shit I have dealt with him.

Accidents.

When I accidently hurt my younger half brother I was scared that my father would come up and hurt me because of a accidental play. He gets like that all the time with be yet gets mad at me when I accidently hurt my young brother? Yeah it was a fucking hellhouse.

I would feel like I would get screamed or yelled at by my own father over something so small yet so big to him. I didn't understand why and I STILL don't know why.

However me and him does have decent moments together but unfortunately there was such little memories yet big painful flashbacks. It's very painful to look back.

My father most of the time would act like he did nothing wrong and pretend I am just acting up however it was just HIM. Not ME.

Such a fucking idiot he is. How did he even pulled my mother??

The Car Incident.

I remember either at 12, 13 or 14 (I'm not really sure when but Im sure its around those ages) I was alone in the car with him on a highway. Y'know those roads that be in the air and such? Yeah. Those. (I'm not sure if it's called a highway or a speedway. Prolly the same Ig.) I was probably talking about how I would be nervous behind a wheel. Even if it's a go-kart. I always get a fear something would happen. An accident, injury or worse. So after a little conversation, my father decided to LET GO OF THE STEERING WHEEL and have ME take IT. I have no idea why he did it. Probably just to get me to face my fears or whatever but letting go of the wheel without any sign or warning is not very smart to do.

During the wheel turning I was nervous and I was scared. I wanted to crash the car for some reason but I didn't. It would've been traumatic for me if I did end up crashing to another car or a wall. And when I said "Take the wheel back" he said something like "You're fine" or "Just turn the wheel child." And when I let go. He didn't out his hands on the wheel. I soon put my hands back on the wheel to be steady and hoping I wouldn't crash the car on purpose. I still don't know why I wanted to crash. It had to be some type of a response of something. After tons of pleas, he finally got his fucking hands on the wheel. Taking it. I think he even called me a "crybaby" or something related to those lines. Now as I may be older, I still have a fear of crashing the car, something happening on the road etc. It's really sad honestly because I really wanna drive without having that constant memory and fear of crashing the car and end up hurting me and other pedestrians/bystanders.

The Homophobic Comment(?)

This one is still a theory of "did he say this or am I just bullshitting?" And I still don't know about it. I am still including this. When me and one of my cousins was outside and hanging out. And like a week or so ago I told him I was Bisexual on text one time. He said something however I didn't hear him. And I swore on my life I heard him say "You're bisexual yet you can't listen?" or whatever that last part was. I swore I heard it. I asked my cousin if he heard it too and he was like "Yeah I think so too." And I had a breakdown the next day and my mom texted my father and my father denied it.

Build-A-Bear.

I went to build-a-bear once with my father and it was fun... but the second time he promised to take me to Build-A-Bear with my oldest half brother. I was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. I was crying because he didn't take me. One time when my oldest half brother was taking me to the orthodontist I asked him what happend when he was suppose to take me to build-a-bear with you and he replied "I tried to wake him up and say 'Dad come on we gotta get ____ to take her to build-a-bear' and he didn't get out of bed. He continued to sleep." (This was before I was trans and all that.) and I was disappointed to hear that. I gotten ready and excited to bond with my oldest half brother and father at build-a-bear however I was never taken there because my father was ASLEEP. I would've have a build-a-bear plushie of my eldest half brothers voice in it as well.

Offically Hated Fathers Day. (At age 15/14 I believe.)

This is where I didn't like fathers day anymore. On fathers day, I was with my father, my younger half brother and my oldest half brother was at IHop to have breakfast together. (My other half brother is in the military.) However in a conversation with my oldest half brother I was telling him that I was taking pills for my depression (My depression soon started when I was either 10 or 11 years old.) and my father soon butted in and said "Oh you don't need those depression pills, you have me and you have your family. You have nothing to be depressed about." And he said it in a loud manner. I was surprised that the people didn't make comments or turn their heads at our table. I was then belittled by my father again. And again. For no reason. He really doesn't care what he says. After breakfsst I wanted my older half brother to take me home (he knew my address.) and I felt alot more safer with my older half brother because he is more soft and gentle than our father. But he couldn't because he had something to do like go to work or whatever. My father drove my younger half brother first or last (I couldn't remember) but when he drove me home he expected me to give him a hug and I gave him that side hug with one arm around him and he was like "What's wrong? Why are you not hugging me??" And I was scared when he noticed that. (I remembered that he wanted to go inside but I can't fully remember.) I bluffed out and he got in his car and left. After he left.

I went inside and my mom was concerned of what happened. I than broke down and started to cry and sob. I told her what happend and my first dog Simba was comforting me and sniffing/licking me as a sign of comfort and I couldn't stop crying. For the rest of the day I felt like I was in emotional pain which I was. And I believe in the next day I was crying again and I was on call with one of my online friends and it was horrible. I was a mess. In a deep and hysterical mess. I offically hated fathers day and I hate it with a burning passion.

Chances.

I gave my father so many chances. More and more because I loved my father. (or so I thought.) and he continued to ruin or break them. I forgave him of not taking me to build-a-bear, I forgave him of not arriving at one of the singing nights I had during choir at during middle school. (I forgot what those where called.) and I forgave him about the shit he has done to me. And I had take it all back of my realization.

The Divorce.

Rememeber where I said my mom divorced my dad and wanted to be friends since I was 3? Well he really didn't visit me much. Sometimes he would but it be so little. And I sometimes would come to his house and it would be dirty. Not like a hoarder like dirty but it was still dirty. Anyways, his visits aren't very frequent which lead me to have more memories of my mom than my own father. He was very much a deadbeat. He didn't come when he promised and it was very upsetting.

Aftermath of the abuse.

Mostly during 16 and 17 of my age I was struggling with daddy issues and very much of "I wanted this I wanted that" and so much so. I began to have fictional characters as father figures. I began to look at a certain older male character and have them as a father figure. (My most popular; Stanford Pines from Gravity Falls.) But my seventeenth years has been... probably been worse. I'm being real here but I have to say this; I cannot look at a silver fox (it's a term for older men who are 'attractive' term . Grayish hair, 5 o'clock shadow, muscular figure etc.) for too long otherwise I would want them to be a better replacement for my father. One time at a dog park, with me, my mom and Olive, we met this guy and his dogs. He looked like he was single and such. I jokingly said that he and my mom should be on a date but unfortunately he was married. 30 minutes or so we took a ride home from the dog park and my mom wasn't happy about me making that comment. And I was upset when I heard he was married as well. It's that bad where I can't look at a normal guy without my brain wanting me to beg him to be my NEW father to replace me for comfort, protection and give me the fatherly love that my biological father had failed to give me.

My mother didn't really have much of a say in it because she didn't grow up with my grandpa being abusive to her.

It was also an unwanted response when I wanted someone to play as a fictional father figure either as Mark from EddsWorld, Ford from Gravity Falls or Doc Ock from SpiderMan. It's always either that or the fact I would get attached to someones OC without having my sona be with them and have them as the Oc's "younger brother or "adopted/foster son". I always felt bad afterwards because of my stupid fucking brain. It's another way for me to cope because I didn't have a step-father. My mom used to date a long time ago until she stopped. I don't know why but I wished she was dating one of the guys that me and her liked.

I basically get attached to an older male that looks fatherly to me and it's very annoying that my brain does this. It's a fucking weak excuse of a coping mechanism I'll say.

I have talked about the abuse and the issues to my school councilor and she had comforted me when I was crying about the car incident because It is still hard for me to talk about.

The Duplex House.

My father had a duplex house and it was dirty. Some dirty dishes and some dirty walls. I didn't like the place because it was filthy and just horrible. Whenever me and my younger brother where over at his duplex house we would all have to share the bed. Yes. All three of us. It was... uncomfy to say the least.

The Smoking and The Car.

He would unapologetically smoke several times in the car. It would be either a cigar or a damn cigarette. I recall he would something blew smoke my face one time but it's still a blur in my brain. So uh yeah I hate the smell of Cigarettes and Cigars because of him. It remind me of him and I don't like it.

The Comfort RolePlays.

Another thing. Whenever I am having a rowdy upset mood about my daddy issues I immediately want someone to play as Ford and do a cheer up/comfort rp with me until I felt better. To this day I have this urge to do so. Yet I keep it in because mostly my friends are busy. I hate it that I think I want this everytime I get upset about my father. It makes me feel like a burden and a leech. And I mostly do it on AI so I wouldn't bother them alot like in my sixteenth age. And apparently I didn't told my mom about the car thing because she has no memory of me telling her that. When I was 16. I would use a A.I chat bot to keep me busy but I just hate using it sometimes because the replies are not what I wanted.

The Painful Memories.

The wholesome and normal memories are the most painful thing to remember from an abusive parent.

💔 The most cherished memory I had was with my younger half brother and my father and we on some occasions fed ducks.. it was short yet sweet. I enjoyed feeding the ducks. It was a good memory yet it had to be from the person I despised the most.

💔 So wanna know how or why I am super excited about 'This Little Piggy?' Yeah. Uh. My father sometimes did that when I was younger. This hurts me the most to talk about this one. No idea why. And now y'all know why I prefer males or a fatherly fucking role doing it.

💔 The playground where me and my younger half brother would be pretending to be pirates and our father would've been a villain pirate or whatever.

These memories hurt and do much to look back on. I am hurting from those memories. It makes me wanna choke them up.

The Nightmares.

(From 6:47 AM: This is a more recent edit but I didnt put it in the edits at the near end because this deserves its own section.)

Sometimes in my dreams I would dream of my father either trying to get me or even trying to torment me/hurt me. I DEADASS HAD A FUCKING NIGHTMARE JUST LAST NIGHT AND I CANT EVEN BARE THE NIGHTMARES BECAUSE IM THAT FUCKING VULNERABLE. I am AFRAID that my fucking FAILURE OF A FATHER is going to get me IN REAL LIFE.

THE AMOUND OF PARANOIA I GET JUST FOR THINKING ABT HIM OR EVEN REPLAYING HIS LAUGH OR VOICE IN MY HEAD. MY BRAIN WILL MAKE ME THINK THE STUPIDEST SHIT EVER.

it made me think my father would come over yesterday of me and my girlfriends anniversary of dating. IF THAT MAN EVER CAME NEAR MY GIRLFRIEND... istfg he would've been on the floor..

The jealousy.

I would have such anger and jealousy because someone has a good dad or even having a dad at all. It doesn't matter if it's irl, online and such. I will be pissy and angry saying shit like "At least you have a dad." And not really caring for the "parts of why they dont like their dad". It still gives me the ick however I can still get jealousy thoughts and be like "I wish that was me. Not them. They don't deserve it. I deserve a good dad. It's not fair."

It's so toxic yet it's very reasonable as if why. I was robbed out of a father. And childhood of a failed father.

Anything else.

Well a few months ago I ranted about my mom about me being angry that I was angry and stressed and lonely because of my daddy issues. She told me I could talk to my father and tell him how I felt through the years. Which I replied with "How could I talk to him after the shit I've been through with that man? He has caused me trauma and I didn't have any fathers. The other people around me do have fathers and it is not fair and I can't helo but feel alone without the father love that I crave." And I ended up crying and she apologized of how much pain I was dealing with. Now she did promise me she would be going on a website to find an attractive man she likes and surprise surprise she also likes silver foxes. We both have the same taste lol. But yeah Idk when she'll go on some sites that has those particular men but it's obviously gonna be near her area/town/state we live in. My mom isn't rlly stupid and I ain't either.

It is rumored or stated that he has bipolar. It ran in his family and I wanted to know and get tested to see if I also have bipolar. It mostly came from his dad. Which is ironic.

I do not care if my father has changed, I don't care if my father has matured, I don't care if he even feels bad now. I AM NOT GOING NEAR THAT MAN.

Also uhhh... btw my irl fathers name is Randy and he bald. So uh.. I don't like bald men and I don't like the name Randy. (Apologies to people who are bald and named Randy.)

I'm always scared I am not gonna have a father figure when my mom passes later on in life. But I did heard about a surrogated father (like a foster father or something like that.) But for some reason I wanted my mom to date a male so I can get close with that said male. But yeah I hope I can get a father figure sometime soon. It depends. I am healing slowley but I am getting better but sometimes I will have my little outbreaks. Jesus christ my hands hurt from holding and writing on this damn phone.

Edit #1 on: 2:57 June 3rd, Monday.

I think I forgot to mention that in a server once, I was ridiculed and made fun of for hating Fathers Day and they made a reply saying "I have a father and you don't?" Which I wanted to say such horrible things to that guy but I didn't. Passed words can hurt. If you think it's funny to mock peoples pain.. please do better. You're doing more worse than good. But lemme tell you something. If you even dare to try to make fun of me or mock me about the shit I went through, I'll do the same right back at you. I won't feel bad.

Edit #2 on: 11:32 June 9th, Sunday.

He had shown me a video of a monkey having its head bashed in and its brains were eaten by the two diners, it was from a film but I was still young, idk why he would show me that in the first place. My cousins watched it too and they were YOUNGER than me. I was getting emotional and upset and I hid mostly in my moms room as my cousins followed me. Idk why he would show me that. Ik the scene was fake and stuff but why would a grown ass man would show their kid a video of a monkey getting bashed in the head by a hammer? Like jesus fucking christ.

Edit #3 on: 2:02 PM June 11th, Tuesday.

I would have some nightmares about my father appearing in my dreams and just… trying to get to me and I would be visibly afraid of him because I am afraid of him. The dreams would make me feel more shitty and I would try not to blame myself for feeling like this because of my own fathers shitty parenting.

Thank you so much for reading. It wasn't fun writing this and it took about from 9:29 PM to 12:09 AM to finish writing this. Please spread this around and awareness about parental abuse. You are valid even if it's not sexual or physical. Sexual and physical isn't always the only thing to be a victim about. You're Valid. ♥︎

- Shroomie/Liam.

[luriuan]

I need more loving Percy. Percy who knows how to comfort and be gentle bc his mom was wonderful and showed him all of these things. Him knowing how to comfort someone with touch or without. Percy who keeps a heated blanket in his cabin just in case. He’s still a New Yorker, but when the time comes he knows how to be kind and comforting.

[hyper-cryptic]

Do u know when wolves do THAT face when another wolf snaps at them. okay now do u understand why Shade's cringefailing

(Warning, ooc. This is an AU.)

[chiropterx]

Honestly, Man-Bat would be such a horrifying creature to stumble across in Gotham? At 8'6, he is HUGE, strong enough to carry off a man in his claws while barely slowing down. He might lack the same intelligence he had as Kirk Langstrom but Man-Bat still has keen problem-solving intellect such as picking up an entire wooden desk and throwing it at Batman to hold him in place long enough for an easy bite to the throat. It's that uncanny area between what was once human vs. a hyperpredator making Man-Bat one of the most dangerous creatures to cross whether he's simply hungry enough or has developed a grudge against you for some reason. You can't outrun him and there aren't many places you can hide because not only can he fly, he's able to squeeze into places you yourself would be able to fit into.

[bmpmp3]

finished up that Yume no Tobira cover with the VirVox dudes i was working on! It took me so long to balance the audio levels and make the video that Voicevox had a major update between me starting and finishing LOL

[chevvy-yates]

10 songs 10 people

got tagged by @lokiina, @elvenbeard and @morganlefaye79. th <3

Instruction: use your "On Repeat" playlist — can be Spotify or any other site you use.

—

the only playlists I have are on spotify and they are all character specific, so I'll switch after 2 songs to the next character playlist. I could have used my itunes but I do not have any playlist there because normally I intend to listen hardcore to just one artist for a looong time being and that would be boring af.

—

So, here we go:

from Hizumi's V-Kei favs:

from Vijay's 80s and 90s favs:

from Ryder's rave the night away favs:

Thyjs' classical and 50s-70s classic rock favs:

Jaysen's favs (that I still need to sort):

—

tagging:

@nervouswizardcycle, @angynomadsimp, @gloryride, @humberg, @ugh-my-back, @genocidalfetus, @jaymber, @theviridianbunny, @imaginarycyberpunk2023 and @vivanightcity.

Als always, no pressure andsorry if you got already tagge (we're just one big family here with every one tagging everyone it seems xD)

[deancoded-deangirl]

hello can nick and i get married yet just asking for a friend

[ilygetou]

zoro with a huge cock he doesn't know what to do with it

i shall elaborate. ૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა

cw. fem! reader, breeding kink if u squint, inexperienced!virgin! zoro (but it’s not mentioned), zoro lowkey acts like a pervert, solo male masturbation, hand/blowjob, cowgirl position, lots of cum, awkward boners, boob job, facials, creampie and/or breeding, damn this shit kinda long :/

note. this was supposed to be a 500 word thirst but i ended up writing this 2.3k monstrosity. so enjoy!

zoro who’s dick is so big & thick he doesn’t know what to do–every time he’d get a hard-on it’d always end up being awkward cause’ anyone who’d be there present with him would be able to notice it. The baggy clothes he’d be wearing would sometimes help him cover up his ridiculously huge erection but zoro still thinks it wasn’t enough coverage.

And when zoro thought it coudn’t get any worse, you suddenly came in the picture. Making the poor man suffer from even more awkward boners.

When he would be hanging around the crew but suddenly he’d get a sudden flash of your face & then he’d be put into this awkward situation. Having to rush to the nearest bathroom in the sunny to take care of his hardening cock.

The whole time zoro was in the bathroom, he would be letting out frustrated groans, he was stroking his cock in an aggressive manner–throwing his head back in frustration and groaning cause’ he was nowhere near his release. And he wishes you were there with him. Because, come on, you were the reason for all this to being with.

Despite zoro’s huge dick, he had heavy breeder balls that’re filled with his hot sperm <3 And zoro sometimes wishes you were with him right now, so he could empty his balls deep insides your cunt. It’s a real shame you aren’t a member of the straw hats, otherwise, zoro would have you stuffed with his massive cock all the time.

Everytime zoro goes off to jerk off, it’d always end up with him edging himself. He thinks he’s doing something wrong at this point–no matter how fast and rough he would be stroking his shaft, it was nowhere near enough and he would never be able to orgasm. Zoro started thinking that the reasoning for this is his ridiculously huge cock. That has to be the reason.

Every time zoro would finally be close to having sex, the person he’s about to fuck always ends up running away as soon and they see his sheer size. So he has been always insecure about his dick size, he’s supposed to be the greatest swordsman for fucks sake. And here he is worrying about the size of his dick.

Maybe if he had a medium sized dick–he would be able to cum as many times as he wants. But with this big one? Yeah, zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to know what an orgasm feels like any time soon.

That was until zoro bumped into you coincidentally, you greeted him with a sheepish smile and pulled him into an unexpected hug, the poor man felt his face grow hot,, and suddenly his cock was slowly hardening. Zoro curses under his breath, scolding himself mentally, this was not the right time for this.

You were babbling about things you saw on your journey, all while using hand gestures to explain things, you had a small spark in your eyes and zoro could almost feel bad for ignoring whatever you were saying and instead focusing on the way your tits bounced with every move you made, and his eyes travelled downwards to where your crotch was. Your pussy was covered from the layers of clothes you were wearing.

Zoro couldn’t hide it anymore, his erection was poking his clothes and zoro’s face immediately went pale once he saw you take a glimpse of his hard-on. “Zoro we can continue talking in the sunny if that’s alright with you? ’M just tired of standing” and zoro immediately agreed, thinking you actually just wanted to talk–cause what else would you do? A sweet innocent, angel like you wouldn’t pull anything inappropriate.

Zoro had a confused expression when he saw you enter his room instead of just going to sit in the main area, he had an even more confused expression when he saw you lock the door–leaving you two trapped in his room. And when you made zoro sit on the edge of his bed as you went down on your knees, that’s when zoro completely lost it, finally understanding your true intentions.

His lips curved into a smirk once you started tugging on his baggy pants, “oh?” he chuckles, zoro really wasn’t sure about this. He was worried that you might get scared and leave if you saw his ridiculously large cock. “you sure ya’ wanna do this?” and you looked up at him with pleading doe-eyes, you pulled down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact; “mhm, wanna have you cum on my face n’ tits, please?”

Zoro’s breath hitched, completely mesmerized from the view in front of him. You finally tugged down his pants, his cock slapping you in the face–zoro immediately muttered a ‘sorry’ his face already turning red. But you honestly didn’t mind, what shocked you more was how big zoro was, you knew he was going to be big by the way his erection was poking his pants but not this big.

His tip itself was huge, it was mushroom shaped and had a pinkish color to it, his shaft was a very light shade of almond, pre-cum dripping down his base and you couldn’t help but worry if it’ll be able to fit inside your mouth or if it’d be able to go between your tits. While you took your time eyeing it, zoro immediately grew worried & insecure–is it too big? did you not like it? And then zoro thought that what if you won’t be able to make him cum as well? He had so many futile jerking off sessions he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to cum anymore.

Zoro was snapped out of his thoughts when you wrapped your small hands around his dick, you had to use both hands to be able to fully satisfy zoro. You started with his tip, circling your thumb around the head until zoro started groaning from the feeling. Slowly moving down to the base and giving it small strokes using both hands, zoro gripped the sheets of his bed–it was completely different from what does.

Zoro would usually just go straight into it, moving his hands rough and fast to get himself to cum but it never worked. But now that you were the one doing it for him, it felt way better than when he does it alone. You were cradling his cock, kneading the tip gently, moving your hands very gently and slow. It was like you were teasing zoro the difference was that it felt so fucking amazing.

You withdrew your hands and zoro groaned in response, his face was flushed red as he took a quick glance at you, his eyes fluttered shut once he saw you positioning his dick between your breasts. He moaned at the soft feeling of your tits around his cock, swallowing his saliva when you took his tip in your mouth, sucking on the fat head of his cock sloppily.

“A-Ahh–shit–” he murmured, running his hands through his hair as he watched your tits swallow his entire length once you squeezed them together. The tip of his cock remained in your mouth, your tongue was wrapped around it–while you kept sucking on it messily. Drool kept dripping from the side of your chin and coating your tits, you looked up at zoro, his head was thrown back as he gripped the sheets beneath him.

When zoro decided to take a small glimpse of your state right now, he immediately regrets it. His huge tip was bulging in your mouth, a few tears covering your lashline, you were squishing your breasts together as you slightly bounced your body. And now, zoro was letting out low hisses, his thighs trembled, cock twitched, and now he was cumming all over your face and tits.

You looked up at zoro with a shocked expression and a cum covered face and zoro himself was shocked as well. He was trying to process this, is this how am orgasm feels like? ’cause fuck, he’s already addicted to the feeling of it.

You licked off the white stains from your face, you got up and pushed zoro back on his bed. “Can i ride you? Pretty please?” zoro’s eyes widened, face becoming even more flushed that even his ears turned red. “I-uh, Are you sure?” you nodded your head, you just had to prepare yourself before taking his stupidly big cock.

You grabbed zoro’s hands, pulling out his middle and index finger, you placed them above your panties, moving zoro’s hands–causing his fingers to rub your clothed cunt, zoro lets you do as you please, watching in amusement as you used him for your own pleasure. Once you took off your panties, you guided zoro’s fingers to your clit, making him rub it until you were moaning from the feeling.

“I think i g-got it, so let me do it” zoro offers and you immediately agreed, letting go of his hands as zoro’s fingers trailed to where your small hole was. This is where his cock was supposed to go? Holy shit. He pushes in his thick digits & your walls immediately clamped down on them, zoro starts with slow thrusts of his fingers–and you were already dripping on them.

With only a few more thrusts, you were already close, zoro’s fingers were already too thick and fulfilling–you can’t imagine how’d it feel to be fucked by his huge dick instead of his fingers. You grabbed zoro’s hands which startled him, “s-stop, wanna cum on your cock instead, please” zoro raised a brow but obeyed nonetheless, retracting his fingers from your drooling cunt.

You placed your hands on his abs for balance as you positioned yourself on top of zoro’s cock, slowly pushing down, your body quivered, breath caught short as the tip was slowly penetrating you and you could already feel the stretch from just the tip alone. And shortly, his whole length was inside you, you still couldn’t move–trying to adjust his ridiculous size.

And zoro couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to move, the warmth of your pussy and the way it was sucking him all the way in felt all too good but he can’t stop thinking about how great it’d feel if you’d just fucking move. He then took ahold of your wrists and thrusted his hips upwards, a scream left you, “w-wait zoro!” you weren’t expecting for zoro to be this inpatient.

He thrusted into you one more time, as tears started covering your lashline–he was stretching you so good right now, particularly splitting you open. “Feels so good, fuck” he sighs, feeling your walls clamp down on him, zoro’s eyes fluttered shut, gripping your waist with both hands as he bounced you up and down his cock.

Zoro traces the outline his cock is leaving on your stomach, was this him inside you? He threw his head back, feeling you clench down on him every time the tip hits your cervix. “You’re so good, so good f’me” he coos, and all you could do was nod in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you try and bounce on his cock but ending up as a whimpering mess, leaning on zoro for support.

His cock was deep inside you, a bulge visible on your tummy, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands were wrapped around your waist. God, You couldn’t ask for more than this, no, zoro couldn’t ask for more. He already came earlier and fuck, it felt so good.

Everytime zoro would thrust upwards, he would let out a hiss, droopy eye’s looking down at your messy face. “shit, you’re so tight” he’d groan, watching as your body trembles with every thrust, as obscene sounds slipped past your lips.

“z-zoro,” and zoro swears he could cum just by the sound of you calling out his name, “gnna’ cum, so close!” you threw your head back as you gripped zoro’s hair, your eyes rolled back as your whole body quivered— pornographic moans left you as you came all over zoro’s cock.

Zoro brought up a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks, removing a strand of hair and tugging it behind your ear—zoro then gave you a quick peck on the lips. His hands finding their way around your waist once again.

And it wasn’t long after zoro was also near his climax, zoro pressed a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in while his other hand still held your waist down. Zoro’s thighs trembled, bucking into you until he was cumming deep inside you, stuffing you to the hilt with his thick, creamy cum.

And after that incident, you were zoro’s personal flashlight. Always having his cum on either your tits, face or inside your mouth or/and cunt. You were always getting fucked by zoro, well this was bound to happen — he finally found someone he could give his cum to.

You couldn’t say that you were used to his size, you’d still always get shocked whenever his cock would basically slap you in the face. Always having to do hours of prep to make it fit. And as always, you’d getting fucked too dumb you’d pass out while zoro was still thrusting into you.

Sometimes he’d get too riled up and would slam his cock into your “too small” cunt without any prep and would finally release you when he has already stuffed you with his cum at least five times. He would sometimes make you walk around with his cum dripping down your legs and would watch from afar as you try to run to the nearest valley to clean yourself up.

Despite being stretched by his cock way too many times, you’d always feel tight for zoro and you’d also always feel like his splitting you open every time.

And you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be happy that you got yourself a dumb boyfriend with a stupidly big cock which he doesn’t know how to use without your help.

[elainemorisi]

definitely a large helping of I dunno, coping, probably. but jesus christ, in some ways the steep slide into blatantly obvious evil, ruinous, cruelty-as-point shit of the past several years is starting to convince me that some version of a milquetoast utopian future is possible, actually, in a way I have never believed before. because actually like, yeah, a fuckton of current problems would diminish significantly if We As A Society prioritized different things, in a pretty top down, structure of bureaucracy and government and systems, independent of personal virtue or revolutionary enlightenment, way

[strang3lov3]

Fighting Fair

Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.

Tags: impish activities, soft dom!joel sorta aggressive joel, forced proximity, cock grinding, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie (always), teasing, dirty talk, almost somnophilia (they’re sleep-teasing each other unconsciously) sexually frustrated morons, good ol' fashioned "we have to get naked and share body heat to stay warm" trope

A/N: I had to drag myself kicking and screaming into writing this fic that put me through the fucking ringer!!! Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings @merz-8 and @beefrobeefcal for the general fic help and encouragement! And I think also @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi and ESPECIALLY @notjustjavierpena who talked me through this fic a couple weeks ago and gave me the push I needed to finish it when I was stuck. You guys all rock ❤️

It’s too cold tonight, even indoors and with a fire burning. He moved the large sectional couch as close as he could safely get it by the fireplace, gave you his jacket, and you’re still hoarding the blanket. Joel tries to gently tug on the blanket that you’ve wrapped around your body, see if maybe you can spare to lose a few inches of fabric. You don’t budge. Joel sighs, “Y’can share, ya know.”

“This is sharing.”

“It’s not, actually. I’m the one sharin’ here. I gave you my coat, you can quit hoggin’ all the blanket,” Joel tugs harder on the blanket, it’s old and kind of scratchy, worn out by the years. “C’mon. Let up.” 

“You can have this much,” You mumble, giving Joel a small amount of the fabric. 

“How generous of you,” Joel mutters sarcastically before pulling the blanket entirely off of your shoulders. “Thank you. S’very kind.”

“Hey,” you whine. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says. He covers his body in the blanket, making sure to cover your legs and feet as well. His hands brush over your own and he winces at their ice cold temperature. “Jesus, girl. Gimme these,” he mumbles, taking your hands into his own and holding them tightly. “Hands feel like icicles.”

“This fucking sucks, Joel,” you complain. 

“It does,” he agrees. Joel’s been dreading this point in the year. He’s eased up on his ‘no fires’ rule for the most part, but fire doesn’t help when it’s as cold as it has been. Tonight, he’s grateful you spotted this old house from afar, even more grateful it has a fireplace. But it’s especially cold tonight, maybe even nearing below zero temperatures. Even with a glowing fire and a shelter preventing the chill of the wind piercing you to the bone, he’s not sure that’s enough to keep you both warm. Joel shivers, “This shit’s not workin’.”

You shake your head no. It’s not. 

Joel’s not quite sure how to offer up his idea. It’ll be fine, or at least, it should be fine. What needs to happen is you and Joel need to get cozy and share body heat, the real way, with both of your bodies completely bare and pressed against each other.

Most of the time, you and Joel fall asleep separately. Occasionally, however, Joel will wake up in the early hours of the morning with your body inexplicably tangled in his, your head laying on his chest. The first time it happened, Joel was annoyed. “Get off of me,” he grumbled. “Not your fuckin’ teddy bear,” You whined in response, and when Joel tried to move you from him you clung to his body tighter. “Jesus,” he mumbled to himself. 

After about the fifth or sixth time of waking up with you clinging to his body, he stopped trying to fight it. In fact, he even started to hold you closer, stroke your hair. Sometimes he’d wake up holding you, other times he’d wake up with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It was nice, mostly. 

Mostly. You have the most uncanny ability to tease Joel in your sleep. Your hand will mysteriously travel from his side up to his chest, your thumb rubbing over his nipple. Other times, it’s your leg that brushes against his crotch. Or your ass, wiggling against his morning wood. After you wake, he’ll leave you alone for a few moments to quietly take care of himself, stroking his member to the thought of your naked body, your soft curves and smooth skin. Sometimes he’s not able to sneak away in the mornings and he’ll be hard as a rock and miserable the entire day. It’s unbearably frustrating. He’s never brought this tendency of yours up to you and he never will, because you’re not doing anything intentionally, at least he thinks. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of teasing, he thought he saw you smirk as he left to take care of himself. It was probably nothing. 

That’s what he’s worried about. Your body, naked against his, teasing him. His arousal won’t be so easy to hide without the protection of clothing, not to mention he may not even be able to fall asleep. It’s not gonna be an easy night, but it’s the only option at this point. 

Joel clears his throat, “We’re gonna try somethin’ different tonight,” he starts, “An’ we’re not gonna talk about it. Ever.”

“Okay,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this. 

“You trust me?” he asks. You nod. “Good,” he says, “We’re gonna share our body heat. An’ it works better with skin to skin contact, which means we’re both gonna get naked and close under the blanket, but we’re not gonna talk about it. Not tonight, not ever. Can you do this?”

“I can,” you tell him. You’re not totally surprised by Joel’s idea, but you’re glad he was the one who brought it up. Truthfully, it’s been something you’ve been thinking of doing with him for quite some time now, since the weather’s been getting so cold. You’ve pictured it, rubbing your bare feet against his legs for some warmth. He’ll probably kick you away, complain that he’s cold too. You’ll tell him too bad. 

“Okay,” he mumbles awkwardly, “Okay, s’good. I’m gonna turn around and get to it then, f’ya wanna…” 

“Yeah, got it.”

You and Joel separate, he places the blanket at his end of the couch as he begins to unbutton his flannel. You remove his coat from your body then shimmy off your pants, leaving them crumpled on the floor. You catch a glimpse of Joel’s back, the firelight dancing on his toned and broad muscles, the scars and stretch marks decorating his skin like art. Quickly, you avert your eyes and begin to remove your shirt. You don’t notice Joel stealing a peek at your body, the blush creeping up his cheeks when he sees your bare breasts. 

“Ready?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, but you’re anxious. You’re not sure how it happens, but you’ve been waking up with Joel here and there. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night with his limbs inexplicably wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head. The first time it happened, you were confused. You tried to shrug him off of you, but Joel only held you tighter, sleepily mumbling in an annoyed tone. 

After about the fourth or fifth time of waking up with him holding your body, you stopped trying to fight it. In fact, you’d back yourself into him, even scratch his forearms to relax him. There’d be times you’d wake up being spooned by him, other times you’d wake up spooning him, with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It’s nice, mostly. 

Mostly. Joel has this inexplicable habit of teasing you in his sleep. His hand will mysteriously travel from your side up to your breasts, his thumb catching on your nipples and rubbing them softly. Other times, he presses his cock against your ass, nudging you and gently grinding against your ass. When you wake, you find somewhere quiet to touch yourself, rubbing your clit to the thought of his body, his warm eyes, the groaning noises he’ll make when he stretches in the morning. Sometimes in the mornings, you can’t sneak away and you’ll be soaked all day, miserable as your core pulses and aches for him. It’s god awful, unbearably frustrating. But you’ve never brought this tendency of his up to him and you never will, because he’s not doing anything intentionally, at least you think. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of him teasing your nipples, you felt him touch you a little more intensely, like there could have been conscious thought behind the action. It was probably nothing. 

This is what you’re worried about. His body, naked against yours, teasing you. It’s gonna be a difficult night, but you know it’s the only option.

Joel reaches for the blanket, spreads it out as he inches back towards you on the couch. “You can lay on your side like that, facin’ the fire,” he offers, and you follow his suggestion. Joel slots himself behind you and tucks the blanket around both of your bodies, then pulls you closer to his body. “Yeah, good girl. You got it. M’gonna hold you tight like this,” he tells you. 

Good girl. His words send desire flooding your veins. Sweet talking in your ear, his hands holding you close and tight. God, this is trouble. 

“Just need to scoot a little closer, like–” you back your ass into his crotch, “M’just so cold, Joel.”

Fuck. Joel can feel his growing arousal pressing against your ass. “I know you are, hon, just–don’t move like that on me,” He keeps you as close as he can against your body, pressing the length of his arm against your torso to keep you warm. His hand brushes against your breasts, thumb caressing your nipple. You gasp. 

“Need you closer, though,” you mumble, wiggling against his crotch once more. His length hardens fully, prodding against your ass. His breath hitches, “Ignore it,” he grumbles, now annoyed. How many hints does he have to drop? Or are you doing this shit on purpose?

You’re annoyed too, honestly. He’s not directly groping you, but his fingertips have not left your nipples, lightly grazing over them and setting your skin on fire. Do you need to spell it out for him, what he’s doing to you? Surely it’s intentional on his end. Has to be.  

There’s a moment where you’re quiet and so is Joel, both of you tired and confused and sexually frustrated with the other. Maybe you’re looking for a fight, but something’s gotta give. Fuck it, you’ll be the one to instigate. “Ignore what, Joel?” you ask, voice incredulous and laced with sarcasm. 

“I’m–my–fuck,” Joel stammers. He feels your body move with your stifled giggles. “Knock it off.”

“It’s all for me, isn’t it Joel?”

“Dammit, just–shut up,” Joel stiffens as he feels his face and neck begin to warm. “And mind your business. S’not for you. S’not for anyone,” he lies, cringing internally for his defensiveness, definitely overcompensating. He rolls his eyes, knowing he was right. Five minutes into sharing body heat with you and it is not going well at all. You twist your hips once more. “I said ignore it,” he grumbles, his hand finding your hip and holding it firmly in place. “Not rub your ass on it. Now sit still. You’re testin’ my patience.”

“I can’t help it, Joel. I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you lie. 

“Yeah, whatever. You’re gettin’ me in trouble is what you’re doing. Now for the love of god, quit it.”

Ten minutes go by without an incident, and Joel is focusing on trying to sleep with your naked body pressed against his. He’s certainly beginning to warm up but at what cost? He’s breathing in your scent, feeling your warm skin under his hand, which is hard enough to deal with. And then you fucking do it again, because his fingers are still lightly touching your sensitive nipples. “What did I just say?” Joel flips you on your other side so you’re facing him, then holds your jaw between his fingers. “Look at me,” he tells you. “Knock it off. Quit your squirmin’, quit wigglin’ your ass on my–” You can’t hide the grin that forms on your lips at his accusation. You purse your lips in an attempt to hide the amusement you’ve garnered from your payback, but Joel sees it. “Why’re you fuckin’ with me?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You know exactly what you’re doin’. Why are you fuckin’ with me?” 

You shrug, “You started it.”

“I never fuckin’ know what you’re talkin’ about,” Joel complains through a deep sigh, exasperated.

“The teasing,” you explain, “You snuggle me and end up teasing me, playing with my tits and whatnot. You know what you do,” you accuse, “So I’m getting you back. Fair’s fair.”

“So you get worked up and you retaliate by givin’ me a hard on. Charming,” Joel grumbles, “And you’re one to talk about wanderin’ hands. Do you know how many times I’ve woken up with your hands in places they shouldn’t have been? Shouldn’t even be fuckin’ sleepin’ together.”

“You never complained about it before,” you retort, referring to the accidental snuggles that take place between Joel and yourself. 

Joel wears a confused expression for a moment, then glares at you. He narrows his eyes at you, completely misunderstanding what you meant. In his head, he’s thinking that you’ve just admitted all of that accidental teasing–it has been fucking intentional on your part. He knew it! “Before? You’re tellin’ me this is a hobby of yours?” he spits, “I knew you had ulterior motives with that late night cuddlin’ of yours. You’ve been gettin’ me hot an’ bothered on purpose, haven’t you?”

You sigh, “No, I’m talking about—” and then you realize, if Joel thinks you’ve been intentionally getting him worked up all this time, he’s been doing the same shit to you to retaliate. “Only because you did it to me first,” you accuse. 

Joel scoffs. “I don’t believe this,” he scoffs, “I don’t care who started it, I’m finishin’ it right now.”

Your heart pounds as desire pools in your gut, a warm, sticky feeling. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talkin about,” Joel whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “I’m gettin’ you out of my system once and for all. You’re fuckin’ ridiculous. We’re done with this.”

Joel shifts his arm, reaching for his cock. You watch as he wraps his palm around his member, thumb swiping over his red and swollen tip. His soft belly bulges against his arm that’s pressed tightly against himself as he strokes his member slowly, patiently. When you reach for his cock to replace his hand with your own, you’re in disbelief as he swats your hand away. “Joel,” you whine, confused.

“Was never really teasin’ ya, by the way. Think you’re a little selective in that way. Seein’ and hearin’ what you want to.” Joel accuses in a gentle tone as he continues to massage himself, “And even if I was, you don’t fight fair.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, sweetheart, all that shit you do to me, I’m gonna do right back to you,” Joel reaches for your leg, grabs the back of your knee and hikes your leg over his hip, pulling you closer and exposing your pussy to him. “Not going to go easy on you sweetheart, you sure you want this?” he asks, giving you an out. But you nod anyway, your tummy fluttering with desire as your mind begins to race, wondering exactly how he’ll retaliate after being pent up like this for so long. “Good,” he says. 

Holding his cock in his hand, he guides the tip to your center, collecting the slick pooling at your entrance and taps the thick head against your clit. He pulls you closer and begins to drag himself through your folds. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

“Tryin’ out your modus operandi,” he breathes. “Isn’t this whatcha were just doin’? Rubbin’ up on me?”

“I wasn’t–mmmm,” you hum as he continues to rub the head of his cock against you, “Wasn’t like this.”

“You’re full of shit,” Joel groans as goes up and down, up and down, notching his tip ever so quickly inside of you to gather your increasing arousal and dragging it through your folds, paying special attention to your clit. You’re pulsing, clenching around nothing as he teases you agonizingly. “You’re makin’ a fuckin’ mess. S’all for me, isn’t it?” he taunts you, using your words from earlier. “God, you don’t take much at all. Soakin’ me, sweetheart.”

He notches his tip inside you to collect your wetness once more and you cry out, “Just fuck me.”

“You’re not gettin’ it,” he breathes, “Told ya, you’re gettin’ your comeuppance.”

You feel like you’re gonna burst. He rubs the head of his cock over your clit in circles, listening to your whines of displeasure when he pulls away from you to focus on his own pleasure. When presses himself against you again, he focuses his tip only at your clit, your slick helping him to slide up and down with ease. When he begins to roll his hips for added pressure, you bite into his shoulder to contain your cries. This is agonizing and so fucking delicious all at the same time. 

You adjust your hips, simultaneously reaching for Joel’s cock to guide him to your entrance. You need him now. “C’mon, now. You mind your manners,” he chides you, “S’not any way to get what ya want.”

“Please, just fuck–need you inside me.” 

“Sure thing,” he says in a honeyed tone. He replaces his cock with his fingers, leisurely dragging them through your slick folds before dipping first one, then two fingers inside you. He finds that delicious spot inside you, but curls his fingers lazily, not yet providing you with what you need. You’re throbbing, aching, hungry for more. 

“Joel, not–”

“Shoulda been more specific, then,” he interrupts. Bastard. When you try to argue, Joel flips you on your back and guides his cock to your entrance, notching his tip in you again, this time not leaving. You whine eagerly, wrapping your legs around him and pressing your feet into his ass, trying to pull him closer. You need him inside you, now.

“Not all at once,” Joel purrs as he enters you at a glacial pace. He pushes inside you gradually, letting you feel every inch of him, stopping momentarily to adjust the blanket over his shoulders to keep both of your bodies enveloped in warmth. Joel bottoms out inside of you and pulls back out, then enters you again, so fucking slowly. You’re not sure how he manages to tease you while fucking you, but he’s doing it. You just need more, need it faster, harder, more. You reach for your clit, but Joel pins both of your hands under one of his own as he fucks into you. Tears of frustration begin to build in your eyes. “You can cry all you want, sweetheart,” he coos, “You made your bed. We’re not done with this yet,” he continues, “But, maybe if ya sweet talk me, apologize for startin’ somethin’ you couldn’t finish…”

“M’sorry, Joel,” you apologize quickly. All your fire, your mischief, Joel’s now extinguished like a flame.

“I knew you’d be sorry,” Joel murmurs. Knowing how badly you need to release, Joel snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you, taunting you with what you could have and never giving you more. 

He’s fucking you at a steady pace now, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. It’s not enough. The wet, gushing sounds of your cunt and the way Joel’s skin feels against yours has you feeling dizzy. Joel’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows you’re aching for release, but he’s determined to teach you a lesson, even if that means torturing himself. 

Yes, as pleasurable as this is for Joel to watch you fuck around and find out, it’s misery for him too. Fucking his fist with the tip of his cock kissing your pussy was no easy task, and neither is holding back from how he truly wants to fuck you. Because, truthfully, he wants to fucking ruin you. Show you just what he thinks of these stunts you’ve been pulling. Show you just what he thinks of your wandering hands and your innocent ‘adjustments’.

“Please,” you gasp, “Just make me come, Joel.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. M’not feelin’ particularly generous at the moment.”

“Please,” you whine, “Been needing y–this for so long.” 

“Ahhh,” Joel hums, “And the truth comes out,” he groans as he rolls his hips against you, “S’that what all of this is about? Been needin’ me?” you nod quickly, “Tell me how long you’ve been needing me.”

“Fuck, Joel, I don’t know. Forever,” you cry, “I need to come now, please. Need to come on your cock, fuck.”

“F’ya said somethin’ earlier instead of toyin’ with me like you’ve been doin’, we wouldn’t be in this mess, sweetheart.”

You don’t know how much more you can take. Tears of frustration trail down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides, intentionally, powerfully. 

Joel’s right there with you, struggling as well. He wants nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, having never seen anything before so erotic and beautiful as your squirming, writhing body. Your soft body, those sweet noises, that frustrated face of yours. And it’s all at his hands, he’s the one  responsible for turning into this mess. 

“Fuck,” he whispers through a shuddering breath, “Not gonna–”

“Joel,” you cry, the only word you know anymore being his name.

“Let’s be done with this,” he decides, fucking finally. He circles your clit steadily now, finding a pace and a pressure that has you letting out breathy gasps and moans as your orgasm approaches. “Want you to come for me,” he says.

His words are all you need. That warm, sticky feeling in the pit of your stomach builds quickly and releases almost instantaneously, sending pleasure erupting through your veins. You feel it everywhere, the back of your thighs, deep in your gut. Wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body as Joel’s thrusts quicken as he fucks you at a now frenzied, sloppy pace he chases his own release. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, coming with a deep, stuttering moan of your name. His muscles jerk and tremble as his cock pulses inside you, painting your insides with thick ropes of his spend. He pulls out of you groaning, his hot, slick release making your thighs sticky. He places a gentle kiss to your lips and then to your forehead, the action a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. All's right with the world now. Sexual frustration solved.

He takes his place behind you again, pulling you close to his chest for the last time and making sure the blanket is covering you both. You’re certainly warmed up now. A little too warm, even. But you’re not complaining. 

“Still not talkin’ about tonight,” Joel reminds you, “Ever.”

“Nope,” you agree.

Another quiet moment passes. For shits and giggles, you rub your ass against his crotch. “But I take it we’ll be doin’ this again, won’t we?” he says, defeated as you continue to tease him.

“Definitely.”

“Good god,” Joel sighs, “Get back over here, then. You drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he adds, pulling you back for round two. He was right, it’s a long night ahead of him.

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2

MASTERPOST

The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective. 

She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him. 

“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.

Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp. 

“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”

Danny tensed. 

‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’

Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.

“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her. 

“Worried,” she repeated. 

He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip. 

She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?

…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was? 

He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures. 

But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart. 

But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem. 

God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.

Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”

“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”

“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”

He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human? 

…He didn’t really think so.

Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.

Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.

Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.

“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.

Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”

Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”

Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?” 

“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.

“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.

“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”

Danny balked. “What?”

“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said. 

Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.

He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.

Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.

He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.

Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.

Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”

Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.

That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted. 

He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.

[abbysbug]

phone calls

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

content: dom!abby, sub!reader, fingering (a receiving), cunnilingus (a receiving), praise, degrading, masturbation, punishments, abby on the phone while getting fucked, bratty!reader.

You love to push Abby’s boundaries and buttons, and behaving in a way that you know enrages Abby, forcing her to give you the attention that you crave. But sometimes, it backfires on you.

You’re kneeling between Abby’s thighs with your hands neatly folded in your lap and a large dildo buried deep inside of you. Abby gave you strict instructions to stay quiet and still while she worked. The only attention she has given you was a quick slap to the face when you tried protesting, other than that, she’s completely ignored you.

Normally, you’re well-behaved when Abby is punishing you, but you're desperate for Abby's attention. The urge to grind on the dildo and the slick that is leaking down your thighs isn’t helping either.

You glance up at Abby. Her brows are furrowed and she’s aggressively typing on her keyboard, obviously having to deal with some stupid man from her work.

“Fuckin’ Owen.” She mutters angrily, grabbing her phone and dialling a number. She raises the phone to her ear, her voice changing to a cheerful one once she’s picked up.

“Hey Owen, I’ve seen that you’ve…” Her words become background noise as an idea hits you.

You slide your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, pushing them apart slightly. Abby glances down at you, giving you a warning glare. You innocently smile, your hands continuing their path towards her heat.

In this moment, you’re grateful for Abby deciding to only wear boxers as you’re able to easily slip them off her hips, giving you access to her. You suppress a whimper at the sight of her dripping cunt, apparently, she’s not the only one desperate for attention.

You brush your thumb against Abby’s throbbing clit, chuckling at how her hips jerked towards your hand, begging for more. Using your spare hand, you spread Abby’s thighs further apart. You drag your fingers through her slick before softly pushing them into her awaiting hole.

Her walls are immediately clamping around your fingers, and she throws her head back, covering her mouth to muffle a moan. Your soft moans follow hers as you start to grind on the dildo.

“You okay, Abby?” You hear Owen ask through the phone speaker.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just hit my toe on the table,” Abby lies, attempting to push your hand away from her.

Instead of pulling away from her, you wrap your arms around her thighs, dragging her closer to the edge of her seat, and wrapping your lips around her clit, sucking softly. You push your two fingers back into Abby, curling them to hit the spot that drives her insane.

“Fuck. Owen, I’m gonna need to call you back. Alice just knocked over one of my vases,” Abby hits the hang up button before he could protest.

You moan loudly into her cunt as she grabs onto your hair, pulling you further into her. The pleasure from the dildo and the pain from her pulling your hair forces you to the edge of your orgasm.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare cum,” Abby grunts, grinding her hips into your face, desperately wanting to reach her high.

You could decide to ignore her, but instead you mumble a quiet, “Yes, Abby.”

“God, you’re such a whore. Couldn’t even wait till I was off the phone before touchin’ me, huh?” Abby’s voice is surprising dominant compared to her whiney moans. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions either, fuck, always gonna be my little brat, aren’t you?”

You hum, cherishing the way she struggles to keep up with your fingers as her orgasm approaches. Your moans become louder as you struggle to control your own orgasm, every bounce causes the dildo to rub against your g-spot.

“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job fucking yourself like some pathetic slut. Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made, you’re dripping all over my floor.”

You feel your face heat up at Abby’s comment. You are absolutely soaked and now there’s a puddle of your slick between your thighs. If your face wasn’t buried between Abby’s thighs, you would be more embarrassed.

Suddenly, Abby’s thighs clamp around your head and her back arches. A loud pornographic moan leaves her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She quickly becomes overstimulated and pushes your head away.

You carefully pull your fingers out from Abby, wrapping your mouth around them and moaning at the taste of her.

“Taste s’ good, Abs,”

Abby hums, wrapping her arms around your waist and easily lifting you into her lap. You cry out in frustration as the dildo slips out of you, leaving you with an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.

“Poor baby.” Abby coos, her fingers tracing around your clenching hole. “All stretched out and ready for my cock – if only you had behaved, though.”

Your mouth falls open in protest, “But, Abby- “

Abby delivers a sharp slap to your thigh, “Don’t complain. You should be thanking me for even allowing you to fuck yourself."

“Thank you for letting me fuck myself,” You mumble, embarrassment flooding your system.

Abby kisses your forehead, “Such good manners,”

You preen at her praise, assuming that she was about to let you off the hook. But you couldn’t be more wrong.

Abby wraps her arms around your thighs, easily picking you up and walking towards the bedroom. You try to ask her what she’s doing but she’s dead silent – not a good sign. You knew not to disturb her while she worked, especially when you’re being punished. Yet, you decided to be a brat and disturb her.

You thought that being stripped of her attention and being edged was enough of a punishment, but she obviously didn’t think so.

Abby throws you on the bed, forcing your thighs apart and positioning herself between them.

"Always gotta be a fuckin' brat while I'm working," You yelp as Abby's hand comes slapping down on your clit. "Bet you act like this so I can punish you, huh? Dirty girl."

"Abby, I-"

You choke on your words as Abby pushes three fingers into you. She curls them perfectly, forcing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips. She wraps her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue mercilessly as her fingers pump vigorously into you.

"Oh my god," You whine, your back arching off the bed.

She suddenly pulls away, "You are not to cum unless I allow it, do you understand?" You nod, but that isn't enough for her. "Words, baby."

"Yes, Abby. I understand," You whimper, hoping that she goes back to what she was doing before.

Instead, she decides to tease you. Her wet fingers glide over your stomach, leaving wet marks in their tracks. She continues to slowly drag her fingers across your exposed skin until you're crying out for her.

"Please, Abby," You sob, tears welling in your eyes. You feel pathetic.

She chuckles before placing her mouth back over your heat and thrusting her fingers into you. You feel yourself getting close, faltering right on the line of that blissful pleasure. Your hands seek solace in her hair, tugging at her braid and hips grinding against her.

Then she stops.

The confused look on your face makes her laugh, "Did you really think I'd let you cum, brat?"

MUCH LOVE TO @abbyism TO HELPING ME FINISH THIS <33

[yeorisanaxox]

ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ➤ ᴄᴜᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋs

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ᴡ ᴏᴛ8 x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛʟʏ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢsᴛ

. ➬sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ: ᴄᴜᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋs

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ɴᴏɴᴇ *ɪꜰ ʟᴏᴡᴇʀᴄᴀsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ*

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴘᴏsᴛs! ɪ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ :)

ღhongjoong. You knew when he was frustrated— the sound his pen made, scribbling aggressively over whatever was displeasing him before starting a new page. And the process would repeat until he was too frustrated to even look at his work and bury his face in his palms. Right now he was beating himself up and letting every doubt torment him until tears.

Your hand suddenly touches his shoulder while the other gently pries his hands away from his face and you're met with those glossy eyes. Another tear escapes them as your hands gently cup his cheeks, wiping them away.

“Take a break sweetie. Come lay down for a bit.” You say more like a question, hoping that he would agree. He swallowed down a sob that was burning in his throat, “but—”

“It will all be here waiting when you come back. I promise.”

It was a short moment before he gave in and let you pull him away from his work and onto the studio couch where he realized the second he was in your arms, how exhausted he really was and dozed off not even a second later.

ღseonghwa. The duality of this man was truly unreal. On stage he put on the persona of the most intimidating being created versus off stage and how he was now, curled up underneath your pink blanket that had my melody all over it with his nintendo switch nestled in his hands, playing animal crossing. You never did understand how to play but seeing him so immersed, you weren’t sure if he was aware how close the device was to his face.

“Hwa?”

He hums in response, still looking at the screen, leaving you to have to reach over and cup his cheek and turn him to you. His eyes widened at the action, taken completely off guard. You can only laugh at how adorable he looked and booped his nose.

“The screen was too close. Don’t want you to hurt your eyes.” You tell him and rest your hand back in your lap.

“Oh.” Is all he said but you noted when he lowered the device from his face and went back to the game with a fainted blush that he was trying to bite back.

ღyunho. It was just a prank you had seen on tiktok and wanted to try on him. Walking up to him at mid bite of him stuffing another spoonful of froot loops in his mouth, he pauses when you suddenly put your palm out in front of him. Wiping the trickle of milk off his chin, looking between you and it, trying to piece together exactly what you wanted. Your fingers wiggled around boredly in the air like they were waiting and him not knowing what to do, subconsciously leans forward and places his chin in your palm.

Your instant cooing startles him a bit before he’s nervously laughing at the situation at hand.

“Is that what you wanted?”

ღyeosang. Is the kindest, most gentle soul to ever grace mankind, sometimes you can’t help but to just stare in awe at how politely he’d covered his mouth while laughing or smile shyly whenever the guys would tease him. Sometimes even turning to you with a pout for help. You’d let him lean his head against your shoulder to hide his burning cheeks, gently cooing at him asyour hands would cup them and rub them with your thumbs to comfort him.

ღsan. Always did become a bit clingy when he was drunk. Needing you to be right by his side and clinging on to you by the arm as he nuzzled his face in your neck.

“I’m not even that drunk.” He mumbles, believing it was more so to himself but you still heard it, giggling when he then hiccups, shaking your body too.

“Oh yeah? Let me see.” Nudging your shoulder to help him sit up a little. He still hugs your arm and beams up at you, making his dimples pop out.

“See—” hiccuping again. You can’t resist cupping his cheek and plant a short but sweet kiss to his cheek.

ღmingi. You believe it was one of those days for him. One of those days where he just couldn’t seem to leave your side. Wherever you went, he was sure to follow, always whining out a tiny ‘wait,’ before latching on to your wrist and going with you. Sometimes just to tease him, you can’t help it because he always reacted too wholesomely when you try to pull away from him.

Those boba eyes seemed to glisten brighter as he pouted, feigning hurt all over. You’d cup his cheeks hastily, pulling his face closer to yours, thumbing over them lovingly.

“Sorry princess, you’re just too precious.”

ღwooyoung. If there wasn’t anything this guy loved more, it was having your attention. You just didn’t understand— on the outside, he liked to portray being unbothered and waving an accusing finger of, “you’re so obsessed with me.” When really on the inside, his heart felt like it was going to beat right out his chest.

And whenever you would cup his cheeks before a kiss, it took every muscle to not cripple at your feet. Such a gentle touch yet it made his head feel so dizzy.

“Kiss me.” He mumbles against your lips, causing you to giggle. “I am kissing you honey.”

“Good.” Pecking your lips again, and again, and again. “Don’t stop.”

ღjongho. As much as you loved your boyfriend, sometimes he could be a menacing little shit. Loving how riled up you’d get from his antics, not stopping until you’re huffing and puffing, and folding your arms at him.

Now he was the one who asked if you could help take his makeup off because he felt too lazy to do it but every time you brought the cotton pad near his eyes, he’d turn his head in the other direction.

First, thinking nothing of it until he did it again a second time and a third time, seeing him bite back a smile. By the fourth and fifth, you firmly grabbed underneath his chin and held him in place. *That went straight to his dick ngl* drawing a smirk of your own, seeing him shift below you uncomfortably.

“Be a good boy and be still.”

“Woof.” He responds clearly turned on.

written by yeorisanaxox. No translations or reposting. Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated] ✨